


It's All the Same, It's All Different

by wayward_angels_club



Series: The Things We Fix Along The Way [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x19, 15x20 Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, I fix what they broke, Implied Dean gets nailed but not like in 15x20, Jack is God, Kinda, M/M, Made up Spells and Rituals, Made up lore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Finale Fix-It, as the other chapters are posted, but like also I stick closer to canon than the show does, its a toss up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_angels_club/pseuds/wayward_angels_club
Summary: Dean, Sam, and Jack fight to right all that Chuck did to them but as more and more of those they love die, and the only way to fix things seems unattainable they find their hope withering.Alternate ending to season 15, including most (if not all) major plot points. This part covers all of 15x19-15x20. Part one covers an alternate ending to 15x18 and will help set the timeline for this part as it does not fall within the canon timeline.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: The Things We Fix Along The Way [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041545
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I could have done a lot more with this and I honestly might but as it stands this isn't an intricate look at Dean Sam and Jack post 15x18, it's a widespread fix of all the issues that were in the final two episodes.
> 
> This could be so much more polished and honestly could have been tremendously longer but this is my rewrite of the ending. Mostly it deals with the dropped threads and gaps that don't make any sense because I am salty as hell about how the last two episodes were done - not just in terms of deancas but everything. So this is my endeavour to fix it!
> 
> Yes, I know the pacing is kinda shot to shit but we all saw 15x19 and 15x20 so my source material was less than perfect, plus I didn't want to end up giving you all a 50k fic that didn't need to be that long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean has two modes when he's lost someone, determination or shut down.
> 
> After losing Cas to his deal with the empty Dean's grief shows itself in determination (like after Sam's death in s2, _not_ like after Cas' death in s12)
> 
> This takes place directly after part one of the series, it's not necessary to read part one but it also wouldn't hurt to do so
> 
> Like I said in the notes of part one this is a bit of an AU in which Chuck doesn't kill everyone at the same time but instead hits TFW 2.0 close to home and starts with their friends and family and works his way up. This means that the events of 15x19 are pushed back and stretched out significantly but they do all still happen.

When he gets back to the bunker his shattered being has fit itself into a mosaic, determination glares off of it in kaleidoscope patterns. He’s not whole, shards of himself are buried into the tree, more still have shot themselves into the ether, searching for the thing that he’s missing, all that he’s missing. Still, he’s whole enough, if a little jumbled.

He mourns with every breath. Mourns Cas and Eileen, Charlie, Donna, Bobby, Claire, Jody, Garth, Bess _and their kids,_ all of the people Chuck puffed away the day he lost Cas.

He remembers the malicious smile on Chuck's face that night, as he’d begged for Cas to be brought back even if it meant he died. How he told them that this was their new story. That he didn't care for Cain and Abel anymore. He just wants them to suffer, slowly, alone more and more every day.

It hurts more than ever when, even after going after their loved ones, Chuck kills all the people they saved over the years in another blitzkrieg. It almost seems like retaliation for daring to demand that the universe be put back to rights. It hurts, even more, when he realizes how close he could be to the truth.

Kate who made good on the second chance she was given, everyone left from apocalypse world, even the oddball Sam and Dean from the Kia driving, private plane owning, man-bun wearing universe, the fucker even goes after Jerry from their fourth case all those years ago which really is just pushing the envelope.

Every day they find out about another person that Chuck did away with. Unanswered phone calls, silence online, more often than not their deaths are never confirmed but what other conclusions can they draw. Their friends are dead and now the people they saved are dead and every day it buries him more in grief. But he makes it push him forwards, they still have to beat him, they still need to win.

The three of them work and work and work. Researching anything they can, reading up on lore, on spells, on anything that may give them an edge.

Jack keeps getting stronger and while they have no fucking clue how they aren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He worries every second that it’s all Chuck's doing but always remembers, Cas never followed the plan, Jack was never supposed to be born, hell he was never even supposed to be good. Every action they have ever made with or for Cas was their own. And that includes this.

When night comes and Sam heads off to bed, and Jack heads off to do whatever young adults who are actually three year olds, but are _also_ part celestial being do in their free time, Dean stays in the library and switches his research. He pulls spell books from Rowena's secret stash, the one Sam raided after he got Eileen back. Reads the lore on angels in and after death, on demons too.

In the last couple years, he’d found himself getting into the habit of sleeping a full night almost every night and switching back to his ‘needed four hours’ is harder than he would have thought. But he struggles through the fatigue because he needs to make this right, needs Cas to come home.

He waits until he has something to tell Sam and Jack, waits until there's actually hope so that if nothing came of any of this it would only be him who gets crushed.

When he does it's still a long shot, he doesn't know if they have even half of what they need for this to work and worse still, part of it he can’t translate so who knows what's hidden in that passage, hell it might not even help at all.

He calls a family meeting in the war room, the map table laid out with what he’s gathered, the tack board covered in loose-leaf pieces of info, lore and spell work. Jack looks confused, Sam looks concerned, they both look conflicted. Like they want to be hopeful but of what they don't yet know.

He’s got a little speech prepared for this moment but with them looking at him like he might hold the answer to all their problems he just drops into a chair, hands folded between his knees, forearms laid against his thighs.

He never told them the truth about Cas, about why the empty took him. It chewed at him for weeks and weeks but he needed to work through that alone, needed to keep it to himself to deal with it. Sitting here now though Dean wants nothing more than to spill everything. To seek comfort in his family.

“This isn't about Chuck, I’m sorry if you thought it was but it—it’s about Cas,” he says, his voice breaking, as it always does, over the single syllable. “I never told you what happened the day but the empty took him, I never shared why it came for him.”

Jack squirms in his seat and a tense look passes over his face, “What made him happy Dean?” he asks quietly.

“How did you—did you know this whole time?”

“I’m sorry, he told me not to tell either of you, he didn't want you to worry. He always said he was far from happy, I didn’t-I didn’t want to make anything worse. It was already my fault.”

And if that doesn't have a stone dropping in his stomach. Not only because Jack blames himself but ‘ _far from happy’_ knowing how long Cas spent at his side, how much he must have added to his pain, just because Dean thought Cas could never feel anything like that for him. How long could they have been together if one of them had just been brave enough to _try_?

“It wasn’t your fault Jack. It wasn't Cas’ fault or anyone's fault,” Sam steps in while Dean swallows his heart all over again.

He wants to be furious but he doesn't have it in him, this fight has been long and tortuous and he wants it to be over. He wants the win. Plus he can hear Cas telling him again that anger was never what he was made from. So he swallows the anger even though it feels like swallowing coals.

“Sam’s right Jack, this wasn’t because of you and Cas knew that, he never blamed you for it,” Dean says. “He never even told me you were there.”

He watches as the well of tears clears from Jack’s eyes and is forcefully reminded again that his kid really is only three and has already seen horrors that any other person couldn't even dream up. And fuck he wants this fight to be over so that Jack can live a life that is normal, or at least more normal. So he shelves the rest of his anger, tables the questions and the betrayal sitting in his heart and focuses back on task.

“He said that happiness wasn’t in the having, it was just being, just saying it and so he told me—he said he—” his throat burns again. Telling someone else somehow makes it all so real, makes it all the more painful and he just can't force the words out.

Turns out he doesn't need to.

“Oh,” Sam breathes, understanding written all over his face.

Jack still doesn't seem to understand what caused his happiness but he doesn’t ask again silently working through it on his own. His head tilts and his eyes squint the smallest bit and Dean’s breath is punched from his lungs. He looks so fucking much like Cas when he does that it makes him want to laugh and cry at the same time. He does neither, they have work to do and this just solidifies how much it needs to be done. Cas deserves to see how much his son is like him, Jack deserves to become more and more like his dad.

He sends a glance at his brother. His eyes are wide and open, a little surprised and overwhelmingly fond. Sam probably always figured the truth was what it was. Hell, he dealt with the two of them for more than a decade and he’s by no means an idiot. Still, he doesn't push for anything from him right now and probably won’t for a while.

A silence settles heavily around the table and he needs to break it or he may crumble under the unintentional pressure.

He lays out the plan, the bare-bones structure of some of it has Sam’s smile wilting now and then but he says he can do the translation if given enough time. He talks and talks until he's covered everything twice, he poses his own questions and answers them too just to show that he understands this plan better than he has any other they’ve concocted over the years. Through it all there's an undercurrent of how much he needs this to work, how badly he needs Cas to come back to them. And they both understand the need in their own way, Jack needs his dad back, Sam needs his friend.

Sam sets to work on the translation the second Dean is done. It takes him days to figure out what's needed, and then it leads him to the book of the damned, and that takes him even longer. All the while Dean and Jack work to collect or find the rest of the ingredients. One ingredient though takes his hope, fragile and tentative as it is, and destroys it.

Archangel grace.

One of the most powerful celestial forces in the universe. And they have no way of getting any. Michael has ignored their pleas for weeks, no way is he going to come now that they want to remove some of his grace from him.

Jack offers his own—weak as it is—for the spell, and while they think it might work given that a Nephilim holds power similar to that of an archangel, a part of Jack is already needed for the spell and they've never found a spell where doubling up on an ingredient source has worked.

Dean tries to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest until every other ingredient is collected; he refuses to allow himself to be overcome with the dashed hopes that the needs of the spell has created.

When Sam comes to him and asks if he has any of Cas’ blood, Dean knows he's trying to avoid asking about the bloody jacket while still outright asking for it.

His stomach churns when he digs it out of his closet, unwashed even after all this time. His fingers brush over the edge of the stain as his heart thumps painfully in his chest. Soon, soon Cas will be back with him, soon Dean can say all that he needs to say, he needs to believe that.

Things are looking up until Chuck decides enough is enough, and kills every soul on the planet.

A day passes and nothing, not a peep from Chuck, not an animal on the earth. Dean feels his hope draining, feels that long known pull towards a decision he can’t come back from.

Sam wilts as does Jack. All he does is stay shut in his room, staring at the ceiling as though he’s trying to see into heaven. As though he's trying to find his faith again.

And little by little their fight seems pointless when it had been the thing that drove them for weeks.

Jack walks into the war room one morning, looking confused and cautiously says that something living is on earth aside from them. Dean’s chest clenches with hope and apprehension, and before they have even stopped to think this through, stopped to think how poorly this could go, they leave the bunker.

They follow the power to the church it came from stopping on the way for some gas and some food. Dean heads off to the washrooms to collect himself, to remind himself that this could be nothing and that working himself up over it is a sure-fire way to get crushed again if it doesn't pan out.

He doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, but any deviation makes him think that maybe, just maybe there's still a chance for Cas to come back—for everyone to come back. That’s what's driving him, that's what's keeping his head above water as the undertow tries to steal him away again and again.

He hears a whimper from behind some pallets and his heart slams to a stop in his chest. This shaggy, hungry, all around Miracle of a dog walks out from behind some trash and warms up to him immediately. He seems to fit right into the soft leather of Baby’s back seat panting happily.

Normally he would never allow a dog anywhere near the upholstery but this dog, this dog is something else and he can’t keep the smile off his face or control the elation in his chest.

As fast as it came it's over, his breath skitters from his lungs as the dog simply puffs away. He’s not seen it before, even with all of the people they've had to say goodbye to since this all started. It makes it all so much more real somehow. How can it be that there's just nothing left of the dog, of any of their loved ones, any of their friends? Of _anyone_?

Chuck fucking salutes him from across the field and that’s the last straw. More than ever he needs to set this right because this isn't how their lives will be lived. This isn't how the world ends, not like this. Not at the hands of some half-cocked megalomaniac with too much time on his hands and an unhealthy obsession with watching them suffer.

This world deserves to be saved in all its fucked up and fantastic glory, it deserves another chance.

It takes them a few more hours to reach the church, the storm rolling in the distance seems to follow them as they get closer. Almost like it's warning them to turn back but this mission—if you could even call it that—is too important to wilt beneath the volatility of the sky.

Jack walks past some of the bushes lining the sidewalk in front of the church and Dean watches as they shrivel, almost like their very life is being sucked out of them. As concerning as that is, it's equally concerning when Jack shudders slightly as more and more of the plants die.

Dean and Sam share a look, understanding coming quickly to them both. Whatever is happening to Jack, it seems like he’s absorbing the power from things around him. To an extent that it nearly drains everything from them. Yet he and Sam are fine… then again if Dean’s learned anything from the last decade of his life it's to not think too deeply into what goes on with angels because it's the fastest way to give himself a headache.

If someone had asked him before he walked into the church what he expected to be on the inside he wouldn't have ever guessed that he’d be face to face with an archangel wearing his brother's face. His brother who’s dead… again. Dean knew that Adam would have died just like everyone else but knowing that Michael is walking around with Adam's face with Adam is as dead as anyone—or rather—everyone else is just weird.

Because yes his brother is dead, but also his brother is directly in front of him talking about taking refuge in a church named for him. Because now it’s only Michael in there and he doesn't know how to mourn Adam, but fuck if that kid didn’t deserve so much more than the Winchester curse.

Getting Michael on their side was as easy as just allowing him to talk about his failings as a son and his failings in trusting his father as much as he did. Dean looks to Sam as he talks, as Michael waits for their decision, because hope burns red in his heart.

It's as long a shot as any they've tried to take but if there's even the smallest chance that they could get even a bit of Michael's grace they might actually be able to get Cas back.

He tests a theory after the possibility of Michael opening Death’s book turns out to be a bust because what else can he do really? Dean calls Sam and Jack into the bunker’s gym, if you could even call it that—at best it's a sparring room. Which is exactly what it's going to be used for now.

He can’t figure out why Jack isn’t taking in power from humans, so he decides to see what would happen if humans, or really anything but they only have a couple humans and a reasonably unwilling to participate in silly science experiments - his words- archangel, let off energy. So Dean gets Sam to spar with him, a few punches here, a couple tackles there just to see if Jack gets anything off of them.

Dean doesn't even have to ask, Jack minorly shudders after Sam lands a particularly rough punch to his side. And that answers that question. Now the only thing left is to figure out how to make use of it.

He and Sam head into the kitchen afterwards to settle afterwards and to figure out exactly what to do with the information they gleaned from that little session and where to go from here.

The way his heart seizes in his chest when Cas’ name shows up on his phone makes him worry that he’s going to die of cardiac arrest at the ripe old age of 41 but it's nothing compared to actually hearing his voice. Strained and hurt and pleading and _alive_ and he takes off like a shot, running up the stairs two at a time because he’s back. He's on the other side of the door and he’s alive, by some miracle. Cas came _back_.

In the same moment that fear hits him when Lucifer’s face is what greets him on the other side of the door a knife drives itself into his heart.

What’s the quote? ‘ _The devil comes dressed as everything you’ve ever wanted’_? Ya, that sounds about right. The word vomit speech dies on the tip of his tongue as fast as it had been made in his head as Lucifer starts to be all buddy-buddy with them and the unsaid words scorch his lungs till they are ash.

He’s too shocked to ask why the empty would choose him of all its occupants to boot out. Hell, he's too shocked to do much of anything as Lucifer goes about zapping a reaper into the bunker, killing her, and having her resurrected as the new Death.

That is until his caretaker instincts kick in and he rushes to help her. And what does he get for it? A bloody nose, or at least it smells like blood as he breathes through the flash of pain.

They take her to the book and against their better judgement leave her alone with it because Betty doesn't seem like one to bend to the wants of the Winchesters and they really need her to read that book. So what Betty says goes.

Michael and Lucifer are having a goddamn sibling squabble in the library when they get back with Jack just stuck in the midst of it. Which is annoying, to say the least. These are some of the oldest beings in existence and they are bickering like preteens.

When Death comes back—thankfully interrupting the nonsense going on around him—it's far sooner than Dean would have thought but he’s not about to complain, quick study or not they have answers now.

It's barely begun when it comes to a screeching halt. Just as she’s waxing pretentious bible sounding lines about the beginning and the end, Betty crumbles, rock and ash and with her, a hope solid in their chests smashes to pieces.

Dean’s blood freezes in his veins slowly as Lucifer talks. Chuck is back on the board and he's using the weirdest pawn to enact his will. Lucifer and Chuck teaming up is odd enough but then the devil honest to god just calls his brother a ‘cuck’. That’s his life now, god he misses the days when he only had to deal with salt and burns.

Dean and Sam get slammed across the room. Pain spreads through his side when he lands on the floor in a heap. At least that's more on par for how their lives used to be and hey what's another bruise or two.

When Michael lands the archangel blade into Lucifer's chest it’s a minor victory at best but still, it’s a victory.

They all knew that if Lucifer turned out to be on his own team in all of this Michael would have been the only one who could have succeeded in killing him and walking away from it more or less unscathed. Having Jack sneak Michael the blade was probably one of the smartest tactical moves that any of them have made in a while.

He and Sam share a look once Sam’s picked the book up off the floor of the library. Every single page is blank. They have no hope of reading it… but there's no use to crush everyone just yet. Besides they have some things to talk about first.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with chapter two! 
> 
> I would like to say that after a royal fuck up at the pharmacy I've been off my meds for five days and as such my cognitive abilities have been tanked (just like the general opinion of the show post-finale - woo!) which is why my notes are hella weird and my tags are shite
> 
> I will be editing both when my meds are back in my body doing what they are supposed to be doing

It takes about an hour after the dust has settled from the fight in the library for Jack to come up to Dean. When he does it’s with apprehension and tension settles itself into Dean’s shoulders in anticipation of what bad news the kid might be bringing.

He oscillates the smallest amount as he stands at Dean’s door before finally speaking.

“Earlier during the whole thing in the library, Lucifer brought something up that made me remember something from when I blew up in the empty.”

Well leave it to this kid to completely avoid what may be touchy subjects for others. Then again Dean can’t say anything about it considering he was the one to push so heavily for Jack to become the cosmic bomb. Guilt curls in his stomach remembering that, remembering how everything narrowed into such a small tunnel he couldn’t see the bigger picture. Couldn't see that it was Chuck manipulating him _again_. Chuck driving him to kill his son _again_. And that's a sin he still needs to atone for, big time.

“When I got to the empty it looked really scared right as I was about to blow up and then before Billie pulled me back out, it said that I made it _loud_. And it seemed really really upset that I’d done that. I feel bad for making it loud, I was never supposed to explode in there anyways and I just thought that maybe if we could make it quiet again it would maybe be more willing to give us Cas back.”

In all this planning Dean hadn’t even considered the fact that the empty might not allow Cas to leave and his stomach threatens to empty itself when it sinks in how likely it is that Cas might be trapped for an entirely other reason.

He covers his fears as best he can. Looking at the forever hopeful eyes of his son he tries his damndest to smile for his thoughtfulness on the matter at hand. He was always a bit too good for this world.

“That's not a half-bad idea kid. Why don't you head off and watch some TV or something and I’ll talk to Sam about it when we get a moment. You need to rest after today I can see that the fight got you a bit sideways. And seeing as we have no real clue what's happening with you, how about we don't push it?”

Jack sends him a little nod before walking back to his room, hopefully, his facade was built well enough and he’s not about to stare dejectedly at the ceiling for hours and hours.

Dean sits back onto his bed and curls himself forwards. Head resting heavy in his palms, he’s not the only one who wants Cas back. He forgets that sometimes, lost in his own grief, in his selfish motivations that fuel his drive to set this right.

Later that night Dean walks to Sam’s room and lets himself in after knocking. Thankfully Sam seems to already know what this conversation is going to be about and jumps right in.

“Do you think that Jack managed to absorb some of that power from earlier?”

“The kid looked like he was getting slammed by the same stuff Michael and Lucifer were, so I’d say yeah. He seems stronger too. Less like just a human.”

“Was it enough?”

“I dunno Sam, there's really only one way to know as much as I hate it, if we have a chance at this it's with Jack being at whatever strength he’s at.”

Sam nods, looking less than pleased before switching topics.

“Michael seemed pretty pissed that Chuck went to Lucifer and not him.”

“Do you think he’s going to double-cross us?”

“I mean it would make sense, wouldn't it? He wants to be Chuck's favourite and always has; a chance like this won't ever come around again. He’d be an idiot not to take it.”

Dean nods. “So what do you suggest? Tell him a fake spell? Just make it up as we get closer to an actual answer we can use?”

“You honestly think he’d buy that?”

“He doesn't know that we can’t read the book Sam, we have the deck stacked in our favour for once in this entire messed up fight. I say we milk it for everything it's worth. I’ll make sure he thinks you can read some of the symbols or something. Plus I’ll try to get a feel for just how far he’s willing to go to get back in Chuck’s good graces.”

“I’ll make sure that we have all the info we need on getting Cas back, and I’ll make sure to grab a bit of his grace. I’ll tell him it's a part of the spell. I doubt he’ll question it. That way when the dust settles we’ll have a decent chance of it actually working.”

Dean ignores the vice in his chest and the burn in his throat as he responds, “Oh that reminds me, Jack mentioned that when he blew up in the empty it said he made it loud. He wants to see if we can make it quiet again. He thinks that if we can do that it might be more willing to let Cas out.”

Sam, bless his heart, knows when to push and when to leave well enough alone, grabs onto one part of what Dean says and runs with it. He can also see straight through Dean’s brave face but he leaves it alone for now.

“Back before, when Jack was still in the empty and we were trying to get Billie to bring him back, Billie promised the empty peace and quiet right? Isn’t that what Cas said?”

Considering he was still coming out of his tunnel-visioned haze. Dean doesn't remember it all that well but it sounds about right so he nods anyways.

“So if we can make good on that promise, make sure that the empty gets what it wants that’s good right?”

“Yeah. I mean we don’t have the best track record with cosmic beings but if the empty wants that so badly and we can give it, it. I can’t see how that's a bad thing.”

“I’ll start digging into the lore while I ‘translate God's death book’.” Sam smiles at his little joke but Dean can’t find it in himself to join in.

If it was Cas who said that he would have added the little quote marks around the obviously sarcastic part of the sentence. But Cas isn’t here, and no matter how small a thing, Dean is desperate to see him make those stupid air quotes again.

They both leave Sam’s room. Sam heads to the library to grab a couple books, all things he’ll need for both research on the spell they already found and manipulated to get Cas back and what he might need to work out how to set the empty straight again.

Dean heads to the kitchen and runs into Michael just sitting in the dim room because that’s a normal thing to do. He really forgot how stuffy angels are when they haven’t been around humans long enough to pick up some of their traits. He lets Michael know about the ‘plan’ and damn does he eat it up.

According to the lore, when the empty is woken up—something that by all accounts shouldn't ever happen—the entire thing becomes some sort of reverse heaven. Not as bad as hell technically (at least that's what the lore says) but instead of a highlight reel it's the angels or demons regrets played on repeat.

Sure it's not fire and brimstone and hanging from hooks or being pinned on the rack but that’s not what the empty is supposed to be. Once the empty is put back to sleep it goes back to the way it's supposed to be, pure nothingness. An existence that ceases to even exist. No one awake, no one relives a single thing good or bad.

Knowing that Cas is stuck in there living his regrets over and over and over, all while Dean can’t fucking work fast enough to save him would be enough to send anyone into the comfort of a bottle. And Dean may be one of a kind but he’s never been that strong.

It's a couple days of ‘translating’ before Sam has something that might actually work to set things right in the cosmic goo that is the empty.

Sam texts him to meet him in the garage. Michael seems to have taken residence in one of the rooms in their hall so the garage is the best bet to make sure that they aren’t overheard.

He’s leaning against the railing when Dean walks in, arms half crossed on his chest, one hand plays at the scruff that's grown in on his chin. He stands up when he sees Dean. He has a question he needs to ask, but Dean can see that he doesn't want to ask it.

It takes only a few more seconds of silence before Dean snaps, “Spit it out Sammy.”

Sighing dramatically, as he does, Sam says, “The spell for it to work, because we don’t have a soul for the vessel Jack is hopefully going to create, it needs to happen where Cas’ blood or grace was spilt. Fatal amounts of either. But as an angel, he’s never really bled out. I mean we could go back to Stull but I don’t think a single person in this bunker wants a repeat of that day, all things considered.”

It barely takes a second for his mind to focus in on the only place Cas’ life has ended like that. His voice is thick as it leaves his throat but if any place is going to work it's this one. “What about where the rift was? Where Jack was born? I mean you saw what happened, you know the damage that was done.” He keeps his voice even, bordering on emotionless, hoping it’ll stop Sam from questioning his readiness to go back there. Unfortunately, it seems to do the opposite.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to handle going back there Dean? I mean what if it doesn't work? Can you handle losing him twice in the same spot?” His voice is so earnest it almost makes Dean want to lash out but he forces himself to calm down enough to get through this.

“I’ll worry about that, you just focus on getting everything together. And hey, when you get Jack's blood let him know that it’s because of their love that this will work okay? He needs to know how much he’s cared for. Shit and make sure he’s ready for this please, this isn't a small ask, he needs to be sure.”

It’s not like the spell won’t work if Jack doesn’t know but he’s been through so damn much and he won’t have Jack become another Cas. unaware of all of the love that people have for him. Thinking he’s only kept around for his usefulness. He’s here because he’s loved, because he’s family.

The spell hinges on Jack's blood being the blood of Cas’ son, just like what was needed for the spell Nick used to try to bring Lucifer back. Jack being family will bring Cas back. And dammit everyone is going to know that.

“I'm going to go find Michael, you just finish everything up. But Sam? Make sure that we have enough stuff to make it look like we’ve actually done a spell otherwise one or both of them might catch on too quickly.”

Sam nods and passes by him heading back through the maze of hallways to Jack’s room.

He deflects when Michael asks about Sam’s work translating until his brother makes his way back into the library.

Sam spews some bullshit about the positioning of the sun for reasons Dean will never understand and they plan to leave the next morning.

Sam takes Michael aside telling him that his grace is needed for the spell to work. Considering Michael doesn't want them to know that he's playing both sides he gives some up, just barely more than enough for the spell to work. And just like that everything is set in place to set things right.

Nerves curl in Dean’s stomach as he goes about the rest of his day. Even with all of their planning, there are so many ways this could all go to shit.

They could all die tomorrow, they could fail to beat Chuck and be forced to live the rest of their lives on an empty lifeless planet. They could lose Jack all over again. They could fail at bringing Cas back.

The nerves turn into something less sinister because maybe they won't fail, maybe tonight is the last night that Cas won’t be in the bunker. The last night he goes to sleep—if you could even call it that—in a world where Cas is dead.

Almost as quickly the nerves shift again and he feels like a teen on prom night because it's been months now and he’s not come up with a single eloquent thing to say for when he gets Cas back.

Hell Cas might want to forget about the entire thing, pretend it never happened, or maybe he interpreted it wrong, maybe it wasn't ever a love like that.

What’s he going to do with Sam and Jack right there beside him? What’s gonna happen when they get back to the bunker? Will Cas move into his room? Does he want Cas to move into his room or should they take it slow? He’s never taken something slow in his life, not relationships at least and they’ve had twelve years of slow but this still all seems so incredibly _new_. The last thing he wants to do is mess it all up by jumping the gun.

It was different all the other times one of them came back from death or what have you. There was always this intense fear that ate through his heart because he couldn't risk losing Cas again. No matter how desperately Dean wanted to rush up to him and make him see that Cas was beyond anything, _anyone_ else, he never did because if it went poorly, if Cas didn't feel that same way about him then he could lose everything all over again and it would be _his_ fault. Direct actions of his own. So he kept it buried every single time because having Cas beside him but not being with him was infinitely better than not having him there at all.

And Dean knew how to live on scraps, so he lived off of them—every errant touch, every healing caress, every time he could feasibly hold Cas as a partner —he took them all and ran with them. He let them burn themselves into his ribs—like Cas’ old protection—into his soul—like Cas’ grace—because it was better than nothing.

But now the doubt was cut down so much that it should free him from the fear but he stays stuck in it. Because Cas might love him, but that doesn't mean he _wants_ him.

He’s willing to accept anything Cas deems fit to give him and it terrifies him.

It’s early morning, a couple hours before they need to leave to make Sam’s bogus claims fit and he's at the tree again. Instead of snow, leaves fall around him, the beginnings of fall snap fragile stalks from their study branches and they all make the softest sounds as they land on the soil.

He can’t let himself go too far into anything right now so as he stands there he places his hand just below Cas’ name, his fingertips barely touching the bottom of the carving and in a voice so low it barely carries he says, “I’ll see you soon.” and breaths out in a long gust.

He closes his eyes for a moment, his hand still connected to his name before eventually backing away from the tree and heading back inside, quickly blinking tears from his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I was the only one to think that the location of the final fight looked way wayyyy too much like where Cas was killed at the end of s12 but I decided to use that and add it into the lore I made up for the spell.
> 
> Chapter three will be coming tomorrow!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The climax of 15x19!
> 
> I made up pretty much everything to do with the spells and the rituals. Which was all kinds of fun actually.
> 
> In regards to the lore surrounding Nick's resurrection of Lucifer from the empty in season 14 I did the best I could to work the stuff we know into this chapter bridging the gaps when needed to make both scenes make as much sense as possible. I hope it's not confusing to anyone (feel free to ask questions—on anything—if you have them, I've never tried to make up lore before).

It’s an interesting win for team free will. Dean’s never experienced that much physical pain in his life, not even in his thirty years on the rack. Yet he stands up after every hit, after every call from Chuck to give in, stay down, give it up.

_ Enough _ is an odd word choice from Chuck but he’s right, they've dealt with enough. Enough of his manipulation, enough of the pain he inflicts on them, enough of losing the people that they love most. They’ve been put through more than enough. But this? This is hopefully their last battle and like hell are they going to throw in the towel early.

It's as quick as a flick of Jack’s wrist to send Chuck away after everything is said and done with him. Sure Chuck’s human now but people kill people all the time and they aren’t about to risk it. Dean’s not sure where Chuck ends up but he also doesn’t exactly care. As long as he’s not here to jeopardize what they are about to do.

Sam sets up all of the ingredients, lamb’s blood, dried Pando, odds and ends that would absolutely live within a scarily powerful hex bag, part of the jacket with Cas’ blood, dried shaved bark from a tree that probably came from the damn paleolithic era, Jack’s non-god powered blood, Michael's grace, some of the dirt that Cas died on only three years ago, wood from the staff of Death’s scythe, mercury, holy oil—some of the same ingredients used when they closed up the rift on this very earth years ago, and so so many other ingredients all used in different ways.

Sigils are painted onto the ground, not only ones of protection, but ones that summon, ones that bind so that the empty can’t close before Cas can get out, ingredients are put in bowls, matches are lit, spell pages are burned—Sam says that how you release the energy of the spell which sounds stupid as hell but he’s not the one who knows witchcraft in this trio—and their ashes are dropped all over the place.

Sam grabs his wrist tight enough that he can barely wiggle it as he carves a small sigil into his forearm and then hands Dean a small vial of blood but gives him zero directions so he just stands there shouting at his brother because, “Jesus you don't just cut into a guy”.

More than half of the stuff Sam sets up he doesn't touch, focusing only on what is needed to get Cas out of the empty. Once that happens they can close it up, set it back to normal.

Sam starts speaking, Enochian, Dean would have to guess, before he walks around the small collection of ingredients. He strikes a match and lights one of the bowls just as he signals Jack to start his part. Jack crouches to the ground with the remainder of Dean’s jacket bundled in Jack's arms, and it starts to glow as he does. Matching golden auras stretch out from both and then with a snap of his fingers Jack stops glowing, the Jacket is gone and in its place is a motionless Cas. No not Cas, not yet. It’s only his vessel, his body decked out head to toe in clothes so familiar it makes Dean’s chest ache. They need the grace still from the empty to complete his resurrection hence why it’s still a vessel and not Cas right now.

The instant that's all done Dean can hear it.

The sound makes his blood ice in his veins, the sworling gurgling mess of the goo of the empty splitting their universe and making room for itself within its space. The rift opens wider and wider again almost like it knows a person has to fit through it and he waits. Waits for Cas to make his way out but nothing happens.

He sends a panicked look to Sam and finds his brother already looking at him.

“There's just one thing left that we need."

“What the hell do you mean Sam the fucking thing’s open in front of us now is not the time to need another ingredient,” Dean says, pissed because this could ruin hi- their chances of getting Cas back.

“It's you, Dean. You're the only one with Cas’ grace infused into your soul, you are the only one who can draw him to you in the empty. It has to be you Dean, I’m sorry but it does. It all comes down to you.”

“Me?! No no, you can do it Sam. It can’t be me. I can’t be the reason he doesn't come back.”

“Why can’t Cas’ grace just come to us? That's what happened when Nick tried to summon Lucifer?” Jack asks.

“With it loud in the empty, I don't think that's a chance we can take, who knows how long it might take for Cas to make his way over here. Not to mention with his limited grace he might not be able to sense his vessel, he needs the pull that Dean has,” Sam says, not breaking eye contact with Dean.

“What?” Dean asks.

“What do you feel Dean?”

“The hell are you talking about, what does it matter what I feel?” Anger bubbles under his skin more and more with each second. None of this is making sense, none of this is going the way it’s supposed to.

“No, physically Dean, don’t you feel the pull, that tug right in the centre of your being? Sam taps his fingers right below his sternum and Dean feels it, like a rope tied around his nervous system begging him to step into the abyss.

“Well ya but clearly you feel it too.” He wasn’t all that aware of the tugging before Sam mentioned it but now he has to actively fight it.

“No Dean we don't, I only know about it because it's in the lore. Jack and I feel nothing, we can walk away from that opening but if you try to, it’ll be nearly impossible. Dean, I'm sorry but it has to be you.” He hands Dean a piece of paper from his pocket. “Say this if you think it's taking too long to find Cas, it’s in phonetics because I know you can’t read Enochian, it's a location ritual… kind of… either way it will make Cas more able to sense his grace in you.”

“Sammy please.” Fuck he hates how his voice breaks.

“Dean if I go in there I could pull out anything, any demon or angel that jumps on the chance of getting out, only you will be able to get Cas and only Cas out.”

“If this goes south Sam—”

“I know Dean, trust me I’ll hate myself even more. But you have to go now, Cas can’t be in there when we do the second part of this.”

He hesitates, the weight of everything setting in for real. It was one thing to have to make sure the setup was perfect but to be the one that this all hinges on? It's almost too much, what’ll become of him if he can’t get Cas back, if he fails right when it counts most?

“Dean! If Cas is in there when we close it down we can't ever get him back and I'm not sure about you but I don't want this thing to stay open any longer than it needs to.”

Sam’s right, shit like this tends to go south for them, Cas might not have the strength to seek out his vessel but someone else might and Dean doesn’t have the time—or forethought—to ask if Jack put a failsafe in place in case a different grace or mutilated demon soul tried to hijack his body. Each second he spends falling into all the ways this could destroy him if it all goes to shit is another second that it could literally all go to shit before he even has a go at saving Cas.

He starts to step towards the moving mass of nothingness when Sam shouts, “Wait!”

Fed up with the back and forth he whirls around and sees Sam gesturing to the sigil in his arm.

“Take the blood I gave you and hold it against the sigil to complete the bond. It should be enough to overpower the carving on our ribs.” He rolls up his sleeve as he talks - as does Jack - and he sees matching marks cut there, barely healed a day or two. “It should make it so that they can’t hide you from Cas. But it will stop hiding you from everything else Dean so I added to it. If I did it right it’s the only protection you’ll have in that place.”

“ _ If _ ?” he asks incredulously as he pops the cap of the vial off and pours the blood into his palm before clasping the two together. Sam doesn’t answer past offering a shrug and pulling an apologetic face so he turns again.

As he walks closer and closer to the abyss he hears Sam speaking in Enochian again and then he switches to Latin to make the protection actually work.

From his distance, he can just barely hear Sam say, ‘blood of the son, blood of the brother, blood of the soulmate’ in Latin but the noise of the empty is overpowering and Sam starts saying words he can’t quickly translate so he stops trying to listen and takes the final step into the nothing.

All noise stops immediately,  _ blankness _ presses in around him but thankfully the opening doesn't budge.

He’s not sure what he's supposed to be doing and wandering feels like a monumental waste of time so he starts to pray.

At first, it’s only in his head, chants of  _ Castiel please _ ,  _ Cas find me _ ,  _ I'm here Cas I'm here, let's go home _ . But as what could be minutes or days pass, he starts to call out into the vast nothing.

“Castiel, show yourself.” No response.

“Cas, cmon, I'm here, I’m right here.” The void seems to swallow his words before they’ve made it past his lips.

“Come home and you can have me. You have me, you’ve had me for years.” He’s begging now.

“Love can’t drive me if you’ve taken it all with you.” Pleading with nothing, or at least that's what it seems like.

“Castiel I refused to tell a tree, I’m not about to tell literal nothingness.” Frustration seeps into his voice.

“I need you Cas. I need you to find me.” The frustration is replaced fully with fear, a full-body ice wash that sends his heart careening to a stop in his chest because this  _ isn’t working _ .

He’s becoming more and more on edge when he feels a presence behind him, or maybe it's in front of him. Or hell maybe it  _ is _ him, nothing is as it should be in this place.

He turns anyway and sees Meg of all non-people a few feet back.

“Well I never expected to see you in here Dean,” she says, a smile spreading on her face that he doesn’t trust for a second.

“I’m not staying for long so you can calm down with whatever you’re about to get pissed about.” He moves to walk away but finds that nothing he does actually gets him any further from her. A different panic starts to set it.

“Why do you assume I’m going to let you leave? Don’t think I don't know that that little weasel who came in here and blew everything up was at least in part your doing.” Oh good, he’s back to de-escalating cosmic beings for the thousandth time in his life.

“You already have the thing responsible for that, I mean does the name Death ring any bells?” Dean questions hoping to be given a touch of leeway for giving the empty that consolation prize.

“Mhmm, I do have Death in here… somewhere.” She waves a hand around pointing to nothing in particular. “You see that bomb of yours messed everything up, everyone is shouting and moaning and moving around and all I want is sleep but you made that impossible. So now you get to suffer right alongside everyone else in here.  _ Forever _ .” She’s sickeningly gleeful about her plan to lock him away as she postures on her throne. Why does she have a throne?

He honestly has no clue how this place is anything but a sensory vacuum but he’s also a human—and not dead—so it would make sense that he's just not equipped to notice it. Even if he can't sense it now, he doesn't exactly want to test the theory and end up dead in the empty for all of ever, living his regrets on repeat.

“See that's not going to happen. I’m here to pick up something that's mine and then we are shutting it down for you. No more waking up, no more noise, only nothing.  _ Forever _ .”

“You’re lying,” she bites out, the smile falling from her face.

“I’m really not, how’s about this. We make a deal, if you don't go offline once I leave this place you can drag me back here. Same deal you gave Cas, one moment of true happiness and I’m yours. But if you shut down then we’re all happy and safe. And everyone walks home with what they want,” Dean says with a winning smile. Cockiness got him through most of his life, it better fucking get him through this.

“Why do I feel that you are holding something back?” Meg questions, picking up on the proverbial fine print.

“For this to work I get what I came here for, then and only then will we close you up. You give me Cas and you get to go to sleep.”

He takes it as a good sign that the empty actually thinks about it.

“Are you really prepared to sign your eternity over for one broken angel?”

“I'm prepared to do anything for him,” he says full of conviction.

“You two really are shaved from the same stalk huh? God, it's insufferable,” Meg bemoans.

“Meg you have a chance at never waking up again, don’t think I don't know how damn much you want that.”

“Fine,” she says after a moment “You’ve got yourself a deal. You and the two-bit heavenly host walk out of here and you shut it all down, but if you don't Dean, I will be watching you every second, waiting for the moment I get to drag you back here.”

“Trust me, you won’t have to wait long.”

In a blink he’s alone. The empty just as oppressive as before.

He starts to pray again for about three seconds before he rips the paper in his fist open and recites the ritual. Begging that Cas hears it, feels it. Feels  _ him _ . Again and again and again.

He walks around chanting it, but no matter what the way home never disappears from view, a beacon of hope for when this finally is over and they can be happy.

That sense of a presence is back pressing against him but he can’t make out anything around him. Nothing seems any different from anything else and as the feeling seems to press in closer his heart slams in his chest terrified that the empty went back on its deal and that this is it, but then a voice reaches his ears. Kind of, it's not so much a voice to reach his ear as it is a force that makes its home inside his head.

“Hello Dean.”

A wet laugh of relief bubbles out of his throat.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says as his stomach flips over. So what if it's non-corporeal, Cas’ voice is better than anything he’s heard in a long time; and he just heard a powerless god grovelling at their feet. “What do you say we get out of here, I know a couple people who are dying to see you.”

“I would like that very much but I have to bind myself to you Dean, to my grace within you. It’s not possession but I still need a yes,” Cas’ voice says.

“Yes Cas, yes, let's just go home. This place gives me the creeps.”

“I have to agree,” Cas says before Dean feels a wash of grace settle over him,  _ in _ him.

His heart continues to beat like mad because Cas is technically right with him and he could just say it, tell him everything as they high tail it to the window of their world shining into this hellscape but he wants to say it to his face. He wants to see what his reaction is, not just hear it.

So he stays quiet and Cas does too. Dean can only imagine what's running through his head, okay well he doesn't have a head right now but the sentiment stands.

The blip into their world grows and grows and the closer he gets the more whole he feels. The more free he feels.

He can see Sam and Jack standing in front of it looking stressed like never before. He has no clue how long he’s been in here, no clue if he’s let something out by taking too long.

The second Sam sees him his face morphs into such relief he thinks his brother might collapse but he knows he can’t. The empty needs to be closed and if Dean has any chance of sticking around it needs to close fast.

He all but launches himself through the opening once he gets close enough. With Cas’ grace still bonded to his soul he can almost feel it stretch out from him and seek out his vessel.

“Dean are you okay?” Sam calls over, fussing with the beginnings of the second part of their plan.

“Just shut it down Sam. Fast, please,” Dean says as he army crawls within arms reach of both Jack and Cas’ vessel.

Jack glows gold again, the tendrils of his power stretch out away from his body lighting up the clearing and Dean has to shut his eyes against the bright light. Jack grips one hand onto his jacket collar and the other on Cas’ body before he tips his head towards the sky and the world whites out for a few moments.

Bits of everything come back to him at different times, Sam is speaking lowly, quickly. Jack helping him with the ritual to set the empty straight again. The sun is shining into his eyes because he was an idiot who collapsed onto his back.

He feels cold almost, now that Cas’ grace has left him again.  _ Cas _ .

He rolls over, totally forgoing helping close the empty, and shuffles slightly to where he can get within reach of Cas. His arm stretches out and makes contact with Cas’... arm? He can’t tell his eyes are too full of light spots to see for sure but it doesn't matter in the slightest because he’s touching Cas again.

Cas who should by all accounts have died more than a decade ago. Cas, who always came back to him. Cas, who is shifting and drawing closer as Sam slips Death’s ring onto his finger.

“Hello Dean.” He smiles and if Dean wasn’t already partially blinded by the sun imprinted onto his retinas that damn thing would have done it for sure.

“You said that already, Cas,” Dean jokes because it just feels so fucking good to actually hear it again he can’t help but take a moment to savour it.

“Yes well it's still true; at least now I can actually say it. Thank you for bringing me back, though I must admit I’m a bit unsure as to how to go forward here what with how we left things between us,” Cas admits almost shyly.

That alone is enough to have Dean desperate to make Cas finally understand.

“God you are a stupid son of a bitch if you think that I don’t—”

“Dean! It's not shutting down, I’m not Death and it knows it. I think I can close the rift but I don’t think I can't send it to sleep,” Sam shouts at him, panic laced in his voice.

“Sam you have to shut it down or I'm dead,” Dean says, whipping his head around to face his brother. “It needs to close up shop and it needs to happen now.” Something akin to fear twists in his stomach at the thought of getting sucked into the empty now, and as quick as he’s made the deal he regrets it.

Not because he regrets getting Cas out to the empty but because now Cas is here and Dean’s need to have him is so much more than it had been and just as soon as he got it, it could be ripped away from him.

For one of the first times in his life, he really doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to throw it all away.

“What do you mean ‘you’re dead’? What the hell did you do?” Sam demands and his guilt turns his stomach inside out because his deal affects so many more people than just himself, than just Cas and getting him back but he didn’t stop for a second to think about that before he agreed.

“I made a damn deal okay, same as Cas did, if it’s not locked down it grabs me after a moment of true happiness and you and I both know how close that is for me.” He sends a quick look to Cas, having just enough non-panicked thoughts to flush slightly at the implication.

“Sam can I help?” Cas asks, getting to his feet.

“Cas no, with your limited grace you’ll burn out in no time,” Dean protests from his spot still laid out in the dirt. He shuffles to his feet when Cas walks towards the fray; the force within him that always wanted to follow Cas regardless of what hell awaited them making itself known again.

“That's fine, I am prepared to lose it.” Cas looks at him as though he knows something Dean doesn’t but there's no time to focus on that.

“You’ll be human Cas, and this time there are no do-overs, you won't be able to ever get yours or anyone’s grace back,” Dean tries to reason.

“I know.” He sounds so calm about it, as though this isn’t one of the biggest and most life-altering decisions he’ll make in his newly brought back life. “I want to help close the empty down. I’m the reason it woke up in the first place, I should be at least part of the reason it finally gets the rest it wants. That and I'm not exactly keen on you getting taken Dean… I mean you call me self-sacrificing but really you're not any better.” Cas tries for a joke but Dean can see how serious he is.

“Dean I need the power, without it, this will never work. Think about it, this is so like the ritual Crowley did to close the rift when Jack was born, maybe this requires a sacrifice too. Cas burning through his grace, killing that part of him, killing an angel—for lack of a better term—that could be what the spell needs.” Sam cuts in, breaking them both from their short staring contest.

“Sam he literally just got back, this could  _ kill him _ kill him!” Dean shouts because now is not the time to be playing with Cas’ life like it's nothing. And fuck, he knows that’s not what his brother means by all of this but tell that to his brain because it hasn’t gotten the damn memo yet.

“It won’t Dean, I know it won’t,” Cas assures him but still the fear eats into him.

“How do we even know this will work? He’s not a reaper, he can’t be Death,” Dean says grasping at straws now.

“Reapers are just another type of angel, and a lesser class at that. I have most of their abilities as well as my own, I can function as a reaper if the need arises. Especially if I’ve got Death’s ring on my finger.” Cas motions to Sam's hand, where the ring still sits.

“And you are fully aware that if you do this all your power is gone. You won’t have any abilities—not yours, not anyone's. No grace, no angel radio, no healing anyone anymore, nothing.”

“I’m aware, yes. And I want to do this. Besides, there are things I want to experience as a human I never got to last time. I promise, it’ll be alright Dean.” Cas’ eyes are so open, so sure of what he’s doing that Dean can’t think of any other thing to counter with. Still, he hates it.

Dean looks at Cas sharply but pleadingly. “You better be right about this because I’m not losing you again Cas. We have shit to talk about.”

“I know Dean.” Cas sends him a warm, small almost tentative smile.

Cas walks up to Sam and holds his palm out for the ring. With a single breath, he takes the mantle of Death with a grace that Dean can’t fathom. He wore the ring once, got the power. He knows the feeling.

Cas tilts his face up to the sky, eyes closed as Sam starts up with his spellwork but Dean doesn't hear a bit of it because—probably without knowing it—Cas has expanded his wings.

They’ve got to stretch at least ten feet out from each shoulder blade, so different from when they were thrown black in shadow onto a wall or scorched into the earth.

They're not even there really, half in this plane and half out but they are astonishing.

What little of them Dean can see glows iridescent. A black base with an entire rainbow of colours playing along it in the sun. He's never even seen Cas spread his wings in the sun before let alone make them physical and he’s having a hard time fathoming the fact that he can see them now. Almost close enough to touch.

They shudder as they begin to break apart, dripping feathers into nothingness. They look like the scales of the snake Sam showed him at the zoo the one time they actually went as kids or  _ fuck _ an oil slick in the sun. Shimmering an entire rainbow in a second before shifting again to have it gleam somewhere else in their impressive breadth.

He’d laugh about how on-brand it was for them to have their angel's wings shine like oil, considering the life they’ve led. How it's powered by the stuff. How the only home they had as kids was a fucking bottomless pit of the liquid. But he’s dumbstruck by the sheer beauty of them.

He watches as they burn out, just as Cas’ grace does. Watches as the empty closes. Watches as Jack nods at their cautiously hopeful gazes.

It gurgles as the last of it recedes from their realm and then it’s silent.

Cas stumbles and drops to the ground, prying Death’s ring off his finger. Dean bolts to his side hand pressed exactly where one of his wings was just jutting out from.

He’s panting and shaking a bit from exertion, his freshly human skin a couple shades pale of worrisome but he’s never looked so beautiful. Dean lays a hand to the side of Cas’ face and leans in, dropping his forehead against Cas’ clammy one.

He’s here. They did it and he’s still here, completely okay and laying his own hand onto Dean’s neck, breathing heavily into the space between them. And he’s  _ fine _ and they beat Chuck and they fucking won without having to lose another person in the process.

Dean’s heart skitters around in his chest because Cas is alive and he’s waiting to hear something from him but the words are getting trapped in his throat because holy fuck the last hour of his life has been too much to handle let alone think about and now he’s up against the wall again.

It hasn't really sunk in yet that Chuck is gone from their lives, that he can’t do shit to them, can't control them anymore because Dean sits there beside a trembling Cas and fear stabs ice through his chest. He doesn't know when his brain will finally catch up and understand that his actions are his own again but he doesn't feel like waiting for the panic to pass. Cas is right in front of him and like hell is Dean going to waste that.

“Alright, boys should we see if we did this thing properly?” Dean asks, everyone around him knowing what he means.

“I’m pretty sure you still sitting there proves that it did.”

“Sammy,” Dean warns gently as he pulls back to look at Cas.

“Okay okay. Jack, what do you say we take some of this stuff back to the car.”

“But I—” he starts to protest.

“Come on Jack.” Sam grabs a couple things as quickly as he can before pulling Jack along with him.

Silence falls around them again. Cas—because he's an asshole—looks at Dean like he knows the biggest secret in the world and is just waiting for Dean to spill it anyways.

“I hear that there is shit we need to talk about Dean,” he says smiling like a cat that got the cream.

“That we do… we’ll get to the terrible way you handled the entire conversation that day later because really, way to give a guy zero time to process all of what you told me before literally dying. Again.” Cas makes to interrupt but Dean doesn't let him. “It’s been months since that day Cas, months without you and it was so much worse this time because I knew. I knew what we could have had if one of us had just done something earlier. So I’m not about to waste any more time. I need you here with me okay? Not because of what you can do for us but because you are you and I can't live without you. I need you to stay. I don't think I can be the man you think I am if you leave again.

“All this time I thought that there was no reason to look into whatever the hell it was I was feeling because there was no way angels were equipped to feel that way. For years I thought that the one thing I wanted was just out of reach because I never thought an angel could lo-love someone.” He stops as his brain is swamped with the years of doubt and all the pain that went along with it.

“Fuck Cas, you idiot, you have me. You've had me this whole time. Everything you said that day, all of it is the same me to you. And we’ve been stopped so many times over the years, interrupted right when something was going to come out and I can’t have that happen again. I love you. Okay? I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, longer than I even know. Longer than I let myself understand.” He knows he rushed the last bit. He knows he could have done it all with more finesse but the look on Cas’ face does wonders to dispel the mild embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

Cas’ smile turns a bit smug after a few seconds and it has Dean rolling his eyes.

“Don't look at me like that, none of this can come as a surprise to you,” he says with a small shove to Cas’ shoulder.

“It doesn't really but you are still here, the empty didn't come for you, we’re free,” Cas says leaning in to rest their foreheads back against each other.

“We’re finally free.”

He feels like a virgin on prom night again because Cas is inches away from him and he could lean in and kiss him, he could do that and he wouldn't have to worry about how Cas would react but something is stopping him.

Turns out that something is Jack smiling at them like he’s won the lottery and Sam standing a few feet back from him looking so pleased with himself.

“We seem to have attracted an audience,” Dean says to diffuse some of the tension that hangs heavy over them.

“That does always seem to happen, doesn’t it. It must be because we are so popular,” Cas quips back, not caring to break the moment all that much.

His cheeks heat but before either can do anything Sam cockblock extraordinaire speaks up.

“Guys I hate to interrupt the moment but there are still a couple things we need to do.”

“We do?” Cas asks turning to face Sam.

“Ya—well you don’t—but uh Chuck killed the entire world while you were gone. He said it was our punishment for not following his grand design,” Dean answers.

“He killed everyone?” Cas asks, stunned.

“There's not a soul on this planet except for us and we are going to fix that… if we can,” he says. It's as much of a promise as it is a question because he really doesn’t know if it's possible.

As a group, they clean up the rest of the stuff they’d set out for the spells and climb into the impala ready to go right the world. As much as Dean wants Cas to sit up front with him, without comment Cas climbs into the back seat and Jack tucks himself close to his dad, each of them basking in the fact that he’s back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four will be out in a couple days! I'm still not on my meds and so my ability to do things is about 20% of what it used to/should be (but I did have a very long, very 'fun' conversation with the pharmacy today to get everything sorted because it's been a week now and I hate this).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they've just saved the day, but still, there's some work to be done
> 
> This almost takes us right to the end of 15x19 but not quite

Cas grows tense as they drive into the ghost town. It's one thing to hear that everyone on the planet is dead but seeing it is something else, and this is only one town, the more you see the more real it becomes.

Jack stands in the middle of the road, the three of them watching as he tips his chin skyward and closes his eyes.

All around them the earth comes back to life. Not bit by bit; but all at once. It's a shock but it's good. So good.

It hits them all that with Jack actually being God they needn't have bothered with the spell to get Cas back out of the empty but he’s glad they did. Who knows how it would have reacted to god reaching into its domain twice in a week to fuck with shit. It doesn't matter either way though, not now, not with Cas standing beside him maybe just a hair too close for people not to avert their eyes when they happen to look over at them.

It's when Jack says that he doesn't know if he should go back with them that Cas speaks up.

“Do you think you'll be tempted to alter the world to benefit us?”

“No, but Chuck being here was already changing things.”

“That's because he wanted them to change Jack. You are new at this, incredibly new and while I wasn't a good God I spent months being one. I can help you, help guide you to start.” He walks forwards, to his son. “Come home with us and we can figure it out together. You won't ever be Chuck because you don't have a story you want to see, you just want humanity to live.”

“Do you promise to make sure I don’t become Chuck?” Jack asks, not moving towards Cas just yet.

“Only you can make sure you don't become him but I swear to help in every way I can.”

Jack nods, still looking conflicted. The kid’s three and is literally God. No wonder he’s looking a bit overwhelmed and unsure. Cas walks the rest of the way and Jack all but falls into his arms pulling him in for an impossibly tight hug.

When they pull back Cas says, “Let's go home, we never did get to watch the movie you picked the last time we did movie night and if we don’t fight for it we’ll end up watching Dean’s pick for the fortieth time. Besides, I think we should start that tradition up again.”

They start the several hours drive back home in silence but soon enough Sam fiddles with the radio and music pumps throughout the car. Dean would have complained about the choice of station had it been any other day but driving with his family in the car and the sun gleaming against the asphalt he can’t even pretend to dislike the pop music coming through the speakers.

Dean honestly didn't think there was anything he’d miss about the empty world they inhabited for a few weeks, but driving back, damn does he miss the lack of traffic. Who would have thought that a fortnight of zero other cars would have made him forget thirty years of traffic headaches? Regardless, the traffic means that there are people again and fuck if that’s not a reason to be happy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Sam slip his cell phone out of his pocket and tap on it quickly enough that he could only be sending a text message; he’d put good money on it being Eileen who’s on the receiving end and it makes him smile. With Cas in the back seat Dean seems to be getting his happy ending, Sam deserves the same.

Getting back to the bunker Jack makes to head to his room, beat no doubt, but Dean sticks a hand out to stop him.

“I wanna do something before we all uhh, retire for the night,” Dean says quickly to make sure no one else decides to turn in. He sends a shy look to Cas because ‘stuff’ means a hell of a lot more now than it would have before. Cas’ answering flush makes him smile; at least he’s not the only one unsure of how to fully navigate the newness in their relationship.

He fishes his pocket knife out of his back pocket and smacks it against his palm a couple times nervously, looking around their little group before he walks to the middle table in the library the rest of them trailing behind him. He flicks it open before handing it to Cas.

“I think it's about damn time the two of you had your names here.”

Cas takes the knife from him gripping it a couple times before he leans down across the table and chips away at the wood bit by bit.

A crack forms right in the centre of Dean’s chest as he watches. The hard corners and blocked letters of Cas’ name etched into the table the most recent—in a long list of—reminders that Cas is fully human now. So human that his carving looks so fucking similar to the one Dean made in the tree outside.

It’s not a happy feeling but it’s not a sad one either. He’s not sure how to name it but it’s overwhelming all the same.

He watches as Cas blows the splinters of wood away from his name and stands back to admire his work, a smile playing against his lips.

He walks back ready to hand the knife back to Dean when Jack reaches for it.

Seeing him use the knife instead of his powers to scratch his name into the wood calms a fear in Dean’s chest that he hadn’t known even existed.

Jack’s still a Winchester, he’s still their kid who follows in their footsteps. And Dean’s still his dad if the niggling fear at watching the kid use a knife like that is any indication.

A small but incredibly nervous smile graces Jack’s face as he works, terrified of doing it wrong or making it ugly. Dean hopes that the three of them can make sure somehow that Jack eventually stops thinking like that, stops doubting himself and his abilities.

Sure it’s been oddly silent the entire time but the moment is so disgustingly sweet that he doesn’t even care. He and Cas stand incredibly close to one another as Jack carves his name. His heart thumps with the sheer proximity of their bodies which isn’t anything new for Dean but it’s still a jolt; and if his heart flips in his chest when his and Cas’ knuckles brush together no one needs to know.

“Jack, when you reset everything, what happened to Adam?" Sam asks once Jack’s given Dean his knife back.

“I rebuilt his body just with no angel in it this time. He’s alive, and since he knows where this place is he might show up. But he also might not. I don't really know what he’ll do.”

“Thank you for doing that for him,” Sam says.

“I didn't really do anything special, I just gave him his body again because his soul had nowhere to house itself.”

“Still, thank you, he never deserved all that happened to him. He deserves this chance,” Dean pipes up. He hopes that Adam will stop in at the bunker at some point. It might be nice to see if all the bridges can be mended between them, to see if they can maybe be a sort of family.

“Hey, Jack what uhh- how back to normal is everything?” Sam asks, voicing all the questions they all have rattling around in their heads.

“It's the day that the majority of people died on still. And everything is exactly as it was that day. It took a lot to reset the earth to exactly how it was in the moment Chuck killed everyone—and to fill in the people who could handle the truth of the matter. Create false memories for those who died earlier—cover the expenses, the needs, replace others' memories so that everyone's life goes back to normal. Only the people in our kinda life understand what really happened. Becky included.”

“Becky? Like Becky Rosen?” Sam makes a confused face as he asks, Dean without knowing mirrors it exactly.

“Yes, Chuck killed her months before he killed our friends. She and her family understand that time has gone by and why that happened. It was quite a shock to them all but they are doing well in the aftermath. I made sure of it.”

“Jack that's amazing,” Dean says dumbfounded.

“Everyone is safe, that's what you guys taught me, saving people. That's why we do this,” Jack responds like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And hell maybe it is.

“Jack you did an incredible job,” Cas says, pulling Jack into another hug.

“Thank you, can I go to my room now? I would like to continue watching the Netflix.” Jack doesn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and walking towards the hallway.

“Who's gonna tell him that's not what it's called?” Dean murmurs low enough for Jack not to hear him.

“No one Dean, leave him be,” Cas says with a smile as they watch Jack skirt around the corner. “We’ll do movie night another day, we all deserve a little time to recoup.”

Sam's phone pings loudly into the calm stillness of the room and he excuses himself hilariously fast before he leaves for his room, no doubt to call Eileen.

It's awkward again after Sam recedes around the corner, but also not. Weights pressed against them for years have been lifted and with them, the caution they became so used to isn't needed, but neither knows how to start. Where to start.

“We lost our audience,” Dean starts with a short laugh, hoping it’s a usable stepping stone.

Cas moves in closer and Dean’s skin hums like it always did when Cas was this close but like everything, it's different this time.

“First time in more than a decade we won’t be interrupted by them. Maybe we’ve lost our popularity.” He doesn’t know where Cas is getting all this sass from considering he’s never been one for jokes and jibes like this but they keep getting closer to each other and it’s taking all of Dean's mental facilities to not react just yet so he can’t very well spend any time thinking about it.

“You're awfully cocky for a guy that just got rescued from the dead again.”

“I have several reasons to be Dean, and I’d be happy to list them for you if you'd like.”

“In a minute there's something I need to do first.”

Honestly, he had been leaning in to finally kiss Cas but his own words rang out in his head, ‘back from the dead’ and he needed the proof more than ever.

Cas clearly wasn't expecting a hug but he wraps his arms around Dean’s body instantly. Dean tucks his chin over Cas’ shoulder just like he always did, and makes it as far as lifting his arm up to pat him on the back before muscle memory stops taking over and he allows himself to hug him like he’s never hugged anyone else in his life.

He drops his face, nose pressed into muscle just above his collarbone and his hand spreads across Cas’ back to pull him in tighter. And he just breathes for a minute.

“You gotta stop doing that to me,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible with it muffled into Cas’ coat.

“I am sorry Dean, I never knew how much it would affect you.”

Dean laughs weakly “I’m lost without you, it's as simple as that. And I've spent too many years of my life being lost to spend another second like that ever again.”

Cas tightens his arms in response, “I’ll endeavour to make sure you never have to.”

“You know that means that I have to die first right? When we’re old and wrinkly and we can barely have sex because of our bad joints.”

“Sex huh?”

Shit, he hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t meant to assume anything.

“Well I just mean— we don’t, I mean y’know it’s just—”

“Dean you’re gonna kill yourself trying that hard and I would like at least a couple more decades with you before that happens. I hadn't wanted to assume anything because there's a difference between you loving me and you… wanting me like that.”

“God you are an idiot. Years Cas, years, more every time I lost you, more every time I got you back. I’m so sorry Cas for everything and I know that doesn’t mean anything but I swear I will show you however I can. I can't lose you again, not after everything.”

“You won't Dean.”

He says it with so much confidence, so much belief that it’ll be true that his breath comes clean out his lungs. Dean pulls back and knocks their foreheads together again. His fingers card through the hair at the tips of Cas’ ears as Cas’ hands rest on his elbows. It takes the barest of pull from Cas before Dean is leaning in. Heart slamming in his chest, more nervous and sure of something than he’s ever been in his life.

His lips skim over Cas’ and he jolts because this is a decade in the making and he wants it to be perfect so he can be sappy about it and he wants it to suck so that they have a good story to tell but he mostly never wants this small moment of the two of them suspended in time to ever end.

Cas tilts his head up and this time he goes the 10% to his 90 and then they are kissing and Deans never cried from joy but he's damn well sure this could be the moment because he’s wanted this for so long. For so much longer than he ever thought he did and now by some twist of fate he has it.

It's wet and honestly pretty damn sloppy all things considered because they both start smiling into it like lovesick teenagers but still he wouldn't trade it for any other kiss he’s ever had.

Cas scrapes his fingernails through Dean’s hair and the smile drops and the kiss turns hungry, ten years of tension snap around them, painting starburst behind their eyelids as their tongues graze each other for the first time. Their hands are everywhere and there's too much teeth because they both start to smile again because there's something so rewarding about just living this moment.

He doesn't want them to end up stripping each other in the library so he employs all of his mental faculties to ensure that he doesn't slip his hands up under Cas’ shirt because that touch of skin on skin would surely do him in for life.

They eventually calm down again, laying gentle pecks to various parts of the others' face as the smiles return.

“We should have done that years ago,” Cas whispers and then Dean is laughing. Gut pinching, doubled over, open-mouthed, half of the time not making any noise laughing and he’d be self-conscious of laughing like that—especially at a time like this—if Cas wasn’t looking at him like he’d hung the stars. No wait, he knows who hung the stars and he fucking hopes Cas never looked at them like this. “I know why we didn’t but I still wish we had.”

“We’re a couple of dumbasses you know that Cas?”

“Hmm, I like cautious better, less dumb less ass. But I also fail to fully understand what you mean?”

“We spent so long stuck thinking that it couldn't ever go both ways. Even now we both keep thinking it's off-limits. That  _ wanting _ each other is something that’s still only one way.”

He leans back in to knock their foreheads together.

“Nothing is off-limits for me,” Dean whispers.

“Nothing?”

“Don’t tell me you're into that really weird shit,” he laughs slightly.

“No, I'm not, I was thinking of something more along the lines of this.” Cas takes Dean's face again but keeps the few inches of space between them. “You know I put your soul back together in hell. But I wasn't the only angel who went to save you, nor was I the only one to rebuild you. But I was the only one to put my grace within it. Yes, it was partially to ensure that you would survive but I was tasked with finding you on earth and I don't know how well you would be able to conceal yourself from me once you got back so I stuck a failsafe measure in place. We were bound the moment I did that, and I always wondered if that was why we were so seemingly drawn to each other. If I had stacked the cards in my favour. But without my grace intact there's no way for that to be the case.” He pauses and looks about Dean's face some more. Almost like he’s checking to make sure that bond is still there, sans grace connection. “In any case, that failsafe saved me, same as it saved you. I’ll still wonder if those first years set the course for everything else we’ve dealt with. I mean I wasn’t supposed to do it. I guess I never really was one for following orders. Not after I saw your soul in hell.”

Dean can’t really think of anything to say, and ya he feels like an idiot for just standing there after that speech from Cas but he’s never been great with emotional monologues and he’s even worse with being put on the spot for them. Cas doesn't seem to be looking for some pour your heart out declaration so Dean does what he knows best.

He just lives in the moment for a little bit longer. And for now, that’s enough. It’s enough for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to give an explanation about the whole after-effects of killing the planet and needing some time to set that right. If I did a terrible job I would just like to say that if Marvel and spn can do it so can I?
> 
> Part four of this series (though it will be released after part five is) is going to be an explicit rated fic that details what happens after this chapter ends. I wanted to hold off one because writing smut for two people who have just realized fully that they've both been wanting it for a decade is... well it's a lot, and two because some people don't want smut and they just want to read a fix it ending.
> 
> Chapter five will be out in a few days and like the chapter count says it will be the last chapter of part two. Part three is all but done now and will be out about a week after this chapter goes live.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very very end of 15x19 and a plot point inclusive yet completely different 15x20
> 
> I'm not overly fond of this chapter's ending but it's also not the actual ending of this fix it so I have decided to just let that go and post it anyways
> 
> Like I said in the notes of this series I am not in the correct state to really get into the nitty-gritty of trauma, grief, guilt, self-hatred, or anything like that so it might seem like I'm really glossing over bits that could (or should) be expanded upon. I am doing the max I can to write those parts without putting myself at risk. I hope you can understand.
> 
> If anyone would like a complete list of the plot points and such that I covered and fixed within this story I would love to know to give you one (one final point gets covered in the next part just fyi)

Dean and Sam head out for a drive a couple days later, Cas and Jack are working on something, there was talk of finding the remaining angels—if there were even any left—and honestly, the two of them were not needed for that.

So they took a drive because they could because they were free to do what they wanted. They stopped for burgers, they stopped for drinks, they stopped to look at the stars as the golden yellow sky gave way to midnight blue.

On their way back from their trip to nowhere—one that at most was a 5-hour jaunt around the state—they stopped for gas because Baby is a lot of things, but good on gas has never one of them and Sam pops into the station for a couple snacks to tie them over until breakfast the next morning. Dean’s just about finished pumping when he hears Sam call out behind him.

“Dean, how come neither of us realized which gas station we were at?”

“Which gas station is that?” Dean waits for a response but when he doesn't receive one he turns.

His breath leaves his chest in a happy little gasp he’ll deny ever making as he sees a slightly squirming Miracle bound in Sam’s arms.

“Oh my god! Has he been here this whole time? It’s been days?” Dean asks even though Sam has no more idea than he does as to Miracle’s whereabouts since he was puffed away.

He walks up to the two of them and motions for Sam to hand him over.

“Hey boy, how come you’re still out here all alone? Don’t you got a family?” Miracle licks his chin as he squirms around to get comfortable being held. “Sam, we're taking him home with us,” Dean says decidedly.

When Sam tries to refuse he just shushes him and opens the back door for Miracle to hop into.

“You know that there are two other people who need to approve of this new addition to the family right?”

“Please like either of them is going to be against this adorable mop of a dog. Cas did always say that our little ragtag family was a species short. And if it's a no—which it won't be—we’ll see if we can find a family for this little rug.”

Sam shakes his head good-naturedly before sliding into the passenger side. Dean heads into the station to pay for the gas rolling his eyes because Sam could have done it himself. But really he can't be too mad, they might not have found Miracle if he’d stayed in the store.

Speaking of, he skips over to the very sparse pet section of the store and grabs a small bag of dry dog food and the only cans of wet food that they have. No doubt the dog—their dog—is hungry, and Dean’s never not been one to spoil his family when he can.

Walking back out he smiles seeing his brother scratching behind the dog's ears. He doesn't say anything as he climbs back into the car, Sam’s embarrassed look being enough to keep him from picking on his brother—for now.

The drive back is quiet. Low music pumps from Baby’s speakers and the stars shine above them but they don't pause to enjoy it again. Cas is waiting back at the bunker, at _home_. Eileen is waiting for a video call from Sam. Miracle is probably dying for a soft place to sleep and neither is keen on making anyone wait any longer than needed for those things.

***

They settle into a routine soon enough. Sam spends a couple nights a week at Eileen’s, Eileen stays a couple nights in the bunker. Dean and Cas take it slow. Yeah, they live together but they want to make sure that things aren't rushed, ten years of history is a lot to start a relationship on and Dean’s not looking to fuck it all up by jumping in blind. They have wrongs to right, wounds to heal, fears to move past.

So neither moves into the other’s room, even if they spend the night together most nights, even if Sam and Jack pester them about it, even if it's what Dean wants. He wants more to make sure that he doesn't ruin this.

It’s about two weeks after everything was set right again when Dean finds himself alone in the bunker. Sam’s off at Eileen’s practicing his sign language and Cas is out for the night with Jack. On a camping trip of all things because neither of them has ever done that before and Dean misses them all but he mainly misses Cas’ presence at his side, murmuring in his ear as he scrolls through an email bulletin advertising a pie festival because he can hear in his head the fond chuckle that Cas would have made at his intense joy when he saw the email. Or how he would card his fingers through Dean’s hair as his eyelids slowly got heavier and heavier looking at the selection of pies that would be at the festival before whispering about heading off to bed together.

If they had windows in the bunker, the sun would have been blaring through them when Cas creeps into his room in the late morning, all chilled fingers and campfire smoke hair and it makes him smile still half asleep. The last bits of his dream clings in his mind and he jolts remembering how fucking absurd it was.

“Morning,” he says, clinging a little tighter to Cas than strictly necessary and Cas picks up on it almost immediately.

“Good morning Dean, what's wrong? Did you have another nightmare?” Cas asks, running a hand down Dean’s arm, sending that fresh air smell around him again. They'd both suffered from nightmares for years now but since all of this... them, started up it's been a lot harder to hide. He hates feeling like he's broken, or in need of help but somehow Cas almost never strays into that category, instead of coddling he just listens and responds as needed. It's the only reason Dean doesn't try to play it off now.

“No... Yes? I—you’ll never believe it,” Dean laughs humorlessly.

“Try me.” Cas shuffles down a bit more until Dean is almost resting his head on Cas’ chest. He’s quiet a moment, sorting the dream into its right order in his brain but Cas doesn't press.

“Well it started out normal, we went to the pie festival I texted you about, just Sam and me, you weren’t there and neither was Jack and then all of a sudden we were on a damn case, still without you guys. Vamps I think it was, like silent and masked vamps for… reasons… I guess. And it was really some standard vamp hunt; boring almost. A milk run for God's sake, a couple of kids taken, dad drained of his blood, the mom was mutilated but left alive and I really don’t want to think about the psychology of that move but really aside from that just normal stuff for us. Some picture in my dad's old journal found us a pattern to follow and we managed to nab one of them and get him talking. Hell, everything was going smoothly, if oddly—I mean why masks?” he asks out loud because it was simply so absurd.

“It was almost too easy, we got the kids out safe and then we got in a fight with the vamps, and I… I died. Just died, on a damn piece of rebar jammed right into my back. Sammy stayed the whole time because of course he did.” Dean stops talking as more of the dream comes back to him. As he remembers what it felt like to live that, or to think he was living that. When he starts up again it’s with a false confidence, an air to him that attempts humour but both can tell how far short it falls. “What's most concerning is that I didn’t let him try to save me. And I don't know why because Cas trust me, I _want_ to live. And I could feel it, I was so damn scared and so fucking pissed because that’s not how I wanted my story to end y’know? I know I always used to stay I wanted it bloody, going down swinging but I don’t want that—haven’t wanted that in years. Not since we got you back after Jack was born.

“I ended up in heaven tho, and I saw Bobby again and I guess if anything about this was positive heaven was fixed, it was open world like some of those video games Jack sometimes plays. So I could see anyone I wanted, all of the people we lost. So I got in baby and started driving. That's when you came in and woke me.”

Both are silent again but for different reasons. Dean works through some of the finer details of the dream while he can still remember them—and one part keeps eating at him. Cas on the other hand is just waiting for Dean to continue or to make it known that he is well and truly finished with his story.

“Dean?” Cas asks after a couple minutes.

“Ya yeah I’m here, I just, I don't know Cas, I’ve had a lot of fucked up dreams before, but that one was… something else.” He laughs an honest to god laugh. “I literally beat the capital G God a week ago but I died because of some piece of steel?” Dean laughs again but it's clocked with disbelief. “Remind me to get us both our tetanus shots sooner rather than later. God that's some next-level stupidity. We aren't going on any vamp hunts in the near future. Hell, maybe no hunts in the near future. I don’t want either of us to end up shish-kabobbed or anything else. I’m not ready to die, not anymore. I’ve got things I want to do still.”

They’re quiet for some time enjoying the peace of the morning for the first time.

“It would be nice though,” Dean says airly.

Cas hums in question, shifting some more so that he faces Dean now. Dean notices his hair is rumbled for the first time. He aches to run his fingers through it for a split second before remembering that he can. Still, he holds off for a little longer as Cas’ face morphs into confusion more with each passing second.

“A heaven like that, opened up so that Mom could visit Bobby and Ellen could have her roadhouse open for all the hunters who passed in at some point. A heaven where you aren't confined to that one good memory but allowed to live more and more and see your family again.” He looks away and shrugs, “Bobby said it was the heaven I deserved.”

“It would be, you deserve so much more than the world can give to you. It only seems right that heaven will be able to?”

“What do you mean?” Dean says looking back into those incredible blue eyes. Something in his chest constricts upon itself under the force of everything he feels for Cas. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and he can’t fathom that he gets to have this. After all this time he gets to have Cas climb into his bed cold from the outside air, sleep mused and he doesn’t have to second guess or brush off the actions. No more intricate rituals, now all he needs to do is reach out and touch because that's allowed, it’s all allowed.

“Jack has the power to make that heaven a reality. He could make it so that when you do die, decades from now, old and grumpy like you should, you get that heaven.”

“Do you think he would do it? I mean he’s concerned that he’s going to meddle too much in the world and become Chuck, which we both know is stupid as hell.” He gives in to the want and runs his fingers through Cas’ hair before locking his hand around the back of his neck.

“I think that if he knew it was something he could do it would be done already.” Cas threads his fingers through Dean’s non-occupied hand and he valiantly tries to ignore the fluttering in his chest at the action because forty-year-old men shouldn't get butterflies from holding hands but it doesn't really work.

He laughs a little while later still laid up in bed with Cas beside him.

“Fucking rebar kills me on a hunt I could have done at sixteen by myself, god where the hell did that come from.”

“I have to agree that that would be a terrible way to end your story. Let’s endeavour to make sure that it doesn't go that way.”

“Seconded.”

It takes another hour for them to make their way to the kitchen for some food… and coffee, definitely some coffee.

Jack is sitting at the table with a book open beside him. Sam sits across from him looking content after getting back from lunch with Eileen after their night together.

Seeing Sam that little thought in the back of Dean’s head rears its head again reminding him to ask his brother about it later on. The moment finds him once Cas and Jack leave to go study up on some lore about making angels or something, so much is going on with Jack that he can hardly keep any of it straight. Dean has the passing thought that he wishes Jack could just learn normal teenage shit for once but right now he needs to talk to Sam.

“Hey man can I ask you a question?” he says once the pair has for sure gotten out of earshot. It’s not that he wants to keep this from them but he really can only handle talking about this to one person at a time. And he has some Sam only questions, there's no need to wrangle Cas and Jack into the conversation because they feel as though they should be there for support.

“I mean you just did but ya shoot, what’s going on,” Sam responds, ever the younger sibling it seems.

Dean rolls his eyes but fumbles right as he starts to explain. “I… don’t come at me for this but I had a dream last night that I died on a hunt. Some standard ass vamp hunt and I got rammed through on a piece of rebar and bit it in some abandoned barn.”

Sam, bless him, doesn't make Dean focus on his feelings for once. “You were with me, we were doing the hunt just the two of us but I wouldn’t let you save me. So right now I need you to promise me to never listen to me if we find ourselves in any situation like that. Okay, Sam? It wasn’t even a demon deal, it was an ambulance and I didn’t let you call me one.”

“Okay Dean, yeah, I’ll shut your idiot self up and save your ass. You have my word.”

“Good Sammy, thanks.” He can tell that Sam wants to ask questions. But for now, his brother holds his tongue.

He’s quiet for a bit before, “Do you ever remember seeing something in Dad’s journal about masked vamps?”

“Masked vamps? No. Why? Why would they ever wear masks?”

“I don’t know, really I don’t understand any part of that dream.”

“When would Dad have even had the time to add that into the journal, there was no mention of vamps while we were searching for him all those years ago. I mean we read the thing front to back so often I think it’s still imprinted into my skull.”

“I don’t know, I can’t remember if we read it that religiously after we found him the first couple of times. He might have added a couple passages before he died because we sure as hell didn’t know about vamps until that first hunt.”

That nagging is back in Dean’s head so he asks, “Speaking of that first vamp hunt, do you remember anyone named Jenny?”

Sam thinks for a moment and then bursts, “Oh shit wasn’t she one of the vics from that case? I think she ended up getting turned and after Dad killed that one vamp the rest just scattered. How the hell did you remember that?”

“Jenny was in my dream. She was the leader of the vamp pack or something.”

“Huh? Hey that was one of the last cases we worked with Dad wasn’t it.” Sam states, not quite a question yet.

“It was, it was the last case he worked that he left unfinished too. He never went after those two, Jenny and… Kate I think right? He let them go for some reason. He never said and the two of us never asked.”

“So in your subconscious, you got killed on a clean-up hunt for Dad?”

Against his will, Cas’ words ring out in his head _‘Daddy’s blunt instrument’_ tears clouding his eyes and Dean’s insides spill acid into his blood. His own voice chimes out _‘Daddy’s blunt little instrument’_ black eyes turning his stomach all over again. And Sam’s joins the fray _‘Like a good little soldier’_ and he’s had enough.

His father used him from the moment he could and in some universe maybe that’s the ending Dean would have gotten. Died bloody and cold in a barn after doing his job, because that's the way it's always gone with his father’s shadow hanging over his head. What you want comes second to the needs of others, no matter what.

Sure fifteen, twenty years ago that would have flown but since then? Nothing has been the same since John died, it's all been better, his family has been better.

No matter what, he’s not going to allow his life to end in the same way it would have if the last fifteen years had never happened.

“Hey Sam, do you think Dad’s in heaven?”

“Honestly? No. And I don’t know how to feel about that but that’s not ours to deal with. He did what he did in his life, same as us.”

“He was in heaven in my dream, Bobby said he lived with Mom.”

“Do you think that wasn’t _him_ him but a different one? One Mom would recognize and love and want around?”

“I mean I guess that makes sense but you remember what it was like to go back and see Dad before he and Mom were even married. We both nearly shit ourselves when he came to the door. How can that be our heaven?”

“Well it won’t be,” Sam says clearly not understanding something. “Heaven isn’t set up that way at all.”

“Cas and Jack are going to fix it, make it open so that we can see everyone we want. Maybe I’ll ask him about Dad and ask them to deal with whatever they find with their own discretion that way we never know.”

Both are quiet for some time. That is until Sam breaks the silence.

“Whatever happened to retirement for you, like why would you dream of dying in a way you haven’t talked about in years. The last thing you ever mentioned on the subject - aside from the Michael thing but we aren't even gonna go there right now - was that you wanted that peace. Do you not still want it?”

“That's the thing Sam. I want it more than ever now. I don’t know what brought that shit up while I was asleep but it’s- that's not my dream ending anymore. So again I need you to promise that if anything like that happens you have my back.”

“I promise Dean, I’m not going to let you talk me out of calling for an ambulance.”

“Good. I always knew I could count on you. Always so pragmatic.”

“Yeah yeah shut it jerk.”

“You couldn’t pay me to bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~and it was all a dream~
> 
> I hated the finale and I hated what they did to our beloved characters so I decided to take the piss with the finale and have them rag on it because honestly what was that bullshit.
> 
> I used the characterization from (for sure) the last two seasons to map Dean's reaction (even though I did not do so in-depth at all) to him dying
> 
> For anyone lost Sam's words in Dean's head come from 1x10 and Dean's own words come from 3x10.
> 
> The next part is something like what I would have liked to see in the finale. It's a bit short compared to some of these chapters but it's more a glimpse into their post series lives than anything else so I hope you stick around for that, it'll be coming out in a few days max.

**Author's Note:**

> And that concludes this part of the fix it!!
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read it it means a lot ❤❤
> 
> If you'd like, you can find me on Tumblr [here](https://cas-s-sinoatrial-node.tumblr.com/)


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